Teenage Kicks
by dorkickassmeadowes
Summary: "She did not notice him, and he barely noticed her. But in their case, the beginning was not as important as the middle, or even the end." written for tumblr's blackinnon week
1. Chapter 1

**authour's note: written for tumblr's blackinnon week. i don't own any of this, yo.**

* * *

She was taller than him when they were eleven. She was actually taller than most people in their year, and her legs went up to her shoulders. She hadn't grown into it though, not yet used to how long her limbs were, and her long blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, because she couldn't be bothered to do anything with it.

"It's just school, Mam!" she'd moaned when her mother tried to plait it that morning, "It's not like it's a wedding or anything, I don't have to look nice!"

"I just thought-"

"Well _don't_."

* * *

They did not meet on the platform. She lived in Edinburgh, in one of those long spindly houses tucked in a cobbled streets, and it was only two grates away from the school. Her father thought it ridiculous that they should go all the way to London just to come back again. She Flooed in about an hour before the rest of the school arrived, and sat by Professor McGongall's fireplace, twiddling her thumbs. McGonagall was friends with her parents, but she sat in silence and, although not intentionally, allowed Marlene to feel stupendously awkward.

* * *

Sirius, meanwhile, caught the train like the rest of them, and on it made a friendship that lasted longer than forever. It was the first time in a while (_the first time in ever, even_) that he felt he could breathe, that he could say what he thought and felt and not get a slap or a barbed comment in return. He would later describe it as the first day of the rest of his life.

* * *

They were all crowded in the Entrance Hall, him and James stood on each other's feet and craning their necks to see what in Circe's name was going on.

The doors of the Great Hall swung open and McGonagall appeared, dressed in sparkling green robes and with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Marlene was by her side, but Sirius did not notice her. He was trying to think of as many jokes as he possibly could about McGonagall's nose. It was of vital importance to him that James thought he was funny.

"Go on now," the professor pointed Marlene in the direction of a scrawny brunette girl with chipped nail polish and tiny hooped earrings. Marlene shuffled over to the girl, cheeks burning under the heat of everyone else's stares. As McGonagall began her speech, Marlene made a decision that would affect her entire life and eventually lead to her death; _I am a McKinnon_, she thought, _I have a lion's blood and I will not let a bunch of snotty nosed, short arse eleven year olds make me feel bad about anything. They can stick their gazes where the sun doesn't shine_.

As McGonagall began her speech, Marlene locked her gaze on the Hogwarts emblem above the doorframe, and pulled herself up to her full height. She was not going to be shuffling anywhere anymore.

She did not notice him, and he barely noticed her. But in their case, the beginning was not as important as the middle, or even the end.


	2. Chapter 2

**author's note: i am so sorry this is so short!**

* * *

Sometimes, he made her sick. It was normally at about five past three in the morning, after a mission, when they were huddled around the big oak table in the Headquarters kitchen, still reeling from what they'd just witnessed, and he'd say something like; "Seriously, though McKinnon, your arse when you shot that Stunning spell at Travers…" and everyone would groan, and she would grit her teeth and think '_Merlin, why am I with you?_' because they'd just watched a man _die_.

And sometimes he made her heart skip several beats, like when they were walking back from a gig, or Headquarters, and he laughed so loudly it made the stars gleam brighter. When he slung an arm around her shoulder and said, "Y'know, Marlene, I reckon you're alright."

"Yeah?" she'd say, and he'd nod.

"Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

**author's note: hurrah this one's actually longer than seven lines! **

* * *

It was 1980, mid-March, and the pair of them were sat on the stained settee in his flat, listening to the radio and consciously avoiding touching each other.

"Y'know, Dor saw us snogging yesterday…" Marlene broke the silence.

"Right." Sirius replied coolly, "Should I be worried?"

"You never worry."

"Indeed," he lit a cigarette, and threw his legs onto the coffee table. Their feet were touching, but she ignored it, and pressed on with what she was trying to say.

"She asked me what we were."

"I see."

He was being very short about it, and she knew what that meant (_because she knew him_). It meant he was scared, terrified even. Defining what they were, what they meant to each other (_not a lot, if she was being honest_) was not something they'd even discussed.

"I told her we were mates."

"Bet she didn't take that well."

Marlene smirked. "No, she didn't."

He mumbled something that sounded like 'uptight bitch'. The smirk fell from Marlene's face, and she grew ever more aware of how close their legs were.

"I don't love you."

He nodded, and exhaled. "I know."

"And I don't think you love me, I mean – not the way James loves Lily, or Frank loves Alice, or Edgar loves Sarah."

He nodded again. A Goblins song came on the radio, and she supressed the urge to hum along.

"Dorcas doesn't think…uh, she doesn't think that we should continue seeing each other if we don't love each other."

"Circe, what is she?" Sirius moved his feet away from hers, and it was like a weight lifted off Marlene's chest, "What is she, 12?"

"I agree with her."

"You what?" he looked at her for the first time since she'd sat down two hours ago. His face had little lines (_lines that should not have been there, because he was twenty, dammit_) around the eyes. _Stupid fucking war_, she thought miserably.

"I said," she repeated, "I agree with her. If this-" she gestured to the space between them, "isn't going anywhere…."

"You said you didn't want it to!"

"Yeah, but things-"

"Have changed, yeah, I know."

"Right. Good."

They fell into an ice cold silence again, the Goblins still wailing about the girl that Charmed their heart.

Eventually, after what seemed an age, she pulled her long legs from the table and stood up.

"Where're you going?"

She didn't look at him, she just picked up her battered leather jacket with a sad and quiet sigh.

"I'll see you around, Black."

He grunted coldly in return, and she snuck out into the rain, quickly and quietly, like she'd never been there at all.

For a long while, he did nothing, and the radio played on like nothing had happened. The Goblins played, then Celestina Warbeck, then The Pumpkins, and after an age, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and muttered – "_Shit._"


	4. Chapter 4

It was a grey day, the type that never seems to begin or end, the day that Dorcas walked into the kitchen and caused a thunderstorm.

It was in that strange, dead few hours between lunch and the evening meeting, and Dorcas was at a loose end, having filed her report at the knitting magazine (_anything that pays the rent, she'd told her mum_) and not being on any missions at present, and so she was wandering around the mostly-empty house as she tended to do when she had nothing else to occupy herself with.

Humming softly to herself, she ran her fingers along the radiator that lined the walls of the hall. The radio was playing in the kitchen, a Pumpkins song she'd danced to when she still went to dances. There were people in there too, she knew because there was a low mumbling sound underneath the pretty melody of the music. She thought it might be Edgar and Sarah, but the voice in the back of her brain that sounded like Mad Eye told her that it might not be friend, it could be foe.

Quietly, she slipped her wand out of the pocket of her dungarees, and stepped forward, peering through the crack between the door and the frame. The light in the kitchen was bright, and two figures stood by the oven, sipping Butterbeer and talking quietly. And then, very quickly, they weren't talking anymore, but kissing, bottles still in hands. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the kitchen, Dorcas realised, with a gasp, who they were.

_It was Marlene and Sirius, wrapped around each other with such ferocity it was almost alarming._

In a slight state of shock, her wand fell to the floor with a clatter, and the couple, surprised by the noise, broke apart. It was one of those moments in which Dorcas temporarily forgot she was a witch of immense skill and talent, and instead she grabbed her wand from the floor and scurried away from the kitchen as quickly as she could. Her mum always used to say that cold air was an excellent way to clear your head, so that's where she headed, out onto the porch, where she lit a cigarette and thought about what she'd just seen.

* * *

The sky was still grey when Marlene strolled out a few hours later, leather jacket draped over her skinny shoulders. She was whistling, one of those funny Scottish folk songs that Moody sang when he was drunk, and she didn't look like she'd just enjoyed a quickie against a cupboard door. She looked cool, calm, collected; like Marlene, basically.

"Alright, Dor?" she said when she noticed her friend, "Aren't you cold?"

"Not on the inside," Dorcas replied, gesturing to the smouldering cigarette in her hand. Marlene nodded shortly.

"Can I scrounge one? Sorry, it's just Matt nicked mine, so…"

Dorcas tossed her the packet.

"You off with me or something?" Marlene asked curiously, sticking the cigarette between her teeth. _Just tell her, Dorcas, tell her that you saw her_.

"No, of course not."

"Just tired, yeah?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Marlene pulled a face of exasperation. "Well, y'know…normally, you're a bit more…lively? That's probably not the word I should've used, but that's why you're the writer and I'm the-"

"I saw you," Dorcas said quickly, "With Sirius. In the kitchen."

"- soldier…" Marlene finished slowly, "You what?"

Dorcas stubbed her cigarette out on the floor. "I saw you," she repeated, "kissing Sirius in the kitchen. And I…I mean, it's not my place, but-"

"You're my best friend, Dor," Marlene replied quietly, "Whatever you have to say, say it."

"Do you love him?"

"_Christ on a motherfucking bike, Dorcas_!" Marlene cackled, "That's a loaded question!"

"Well?" she looked up at Marlene, and the wind whistled through the thin glass of the front windows.

"No."

"Really?"

"I don't…" she ran a hand through her long blonde hair, and leant beside Dorcas, "I don't think I believe in love. I mean, I know it exists, I can see it, but…I don't – it's like when you're a kid, the first time you cast a spell with a wand, first lesson of Hogwarts, and you can see it happening around you, so you know that it's possible, but you can't…there's a bit of you that doesn't believe that you, yourself, can do it? It's like that."

Dorcas nodded slowly, and Marlene smoked in silence. Nothing was said for a while.

"I don't think you should see him, if you don't love him."

"I thought you would." It wasn't said cruelly, but honestly. Dorcas would later remember it as one of those conversations where you see inside another person's soul.

"You understand me though, don't you?"

Marlene nodded. It was _hard_, keeping her walls up, and she was _exhausted_. It was exhausting keeping Sirius Black at arm's length, and it was exhausting fighting this war and she just wanted to sleep. Merlin, she was tired.

"I'll tell him," she promised Dorcas, "Would that make you happy?"

"It's not about me," her friend replied with a smile, "it's nothing to do with me at all."

"Mmmmm…"

There was quiet again, and it began to drizzle, like the sky was crying.

"D'you wanna go back in? It's getting a bit cold…"

"Yeah," Marlene said, "yeah, let's go inside."


	5. Chapter 5

**author's note: this is kind of a companion piece to one of my jily week drabbles, so if you wanna read that, that's cool as well!**

* * *

It rained hard the day Lily and James got married. It was hailing by the time the party got the Leaky Cauldron, wands above their heads in _Impervius_. Sirius and Marlene trailed behind everyone else; they, unlike Mary, unlike Remus, unlike Celia, were not full of joy at the prospect of their friends- of anyone- spending the _rest of their lives_ together.

"Fucking weather," Marlene grumbled, and Sirius handed her a cigarette with his free hand.

"Smoke up, McKinnon – Cee'll complain if you light one in the pub."

She made a non-committal grunt, and stuck the cigarette between her teeth.

"She can suck it up then, can't she?"

Sirius smiled to himself. He liked Marlene; he liked that she was fire wrapped in ice, that she didn't take anyone's shit, that she had the same 'nobody understand me' cackle that he had too. She was a laugh, and Merlin knew they needed laughs in this climate.

"Give us a light?" she asked, running a hand through her long hair. He ended the charm above his head, and the tiny rocks of ice went down the back of his second hand suit and got his neck cold and wet.

"Here," he said, and a tiny flame appeared on the end of his wand. She extended her hand towards him, and he lit the cigarette with a flourish.

"Show off," she smirked, and he laughed.

"Come on, slowpokes!" Celia called, half a street ahead of them. Marlene shrugged.

"Come _on_!" the former Hufflepuff called again, "We've only got the pub for an hour!"

"More than enough time to get pissed, Cee, calm down!" Sirius yelled back, and Celia made a face.

"Y'know, I couldn't _bear _it if this was any bigger than it is," Marlene told him, sticking her hands in the pockets of her battered leather jacket, "does that make sense?"

"Mmmm."

"Because I reckon, if it was any bigger, it wouldn't be…well, it wouldn't be like Lily and James, would it?"

Sirius ran a hand through his mop of dark hair. She was right, of course; Lily and James did things their way, quietly and sweetly, and mostly spur of the moment. If the wedding had been in the back garden of Peverell Manor, in a marquee, if Lily had worn had a full length dress with a veil, or had proper flowers instead of a handful of daisies picked from the side of the road, then it would have lost the point of itself, somehow, because it wouldn't have been about them, it would have been about the thing that they were doing, and that wouldn't have been right at all.

"Yeah, it wouldn't."

She nodded shortly. "Peter said you've never been to a wedding before?"

He raised his chin, like half a nod, but then thought better of it, and sucked on his cigarette instead.

"Yeah," he exhaled smoke, "yeah, they wouldn't let me go to my cousins. Either of them. Any of them, sorry – there were three."

"Were?" she asked, and then wished she didn't.

"They disowned her, doesn't matter." he turned to look at her, charming smile gracing his chiselled features. "We should hurry up. We _do _only have an hour."

The corners of her lips turned upwards into a smirk, and she nodded.

"Race you?"

He laughed, and the hail fell hard on the cobbled streets.


	6. Chapter 6

There was so much silence, it was almost heavy. Where he'd been before, there was so much noise it ached, but here there was just silence.

Gingerly, because he wasn't entirely certain where he was, Sirius opened his eyes. He was at Hogwarts. Possibly. He didn't know, he wasn't sure. But wherever he was, the sky was very blue, and there was a huge beech tree towering above him. He twisted his neck to the left, and learnt that he was lying on lush green grass.

It must be Hogwarts, because he'd never seen grass that green anywhere else. Why was he at Hogwarts? Because…because he- _oh shit, now he remembered. _

He threw himself to his feet, and reached for his wand in his front pocket. It wasn't there.

"_Bloody fucking Circe!_" he gasped, and there came a laugh from behind him. Sirius turned slowly, because he recognised that laugh, he'd recognise that laugh anywhere, but it couldn't be, it wasn't- it was.

_Blimey_.

"Prongs…"

James didn't look a day over twenty one, and clinging to his arm, just like she had when they got married, was Lily, beaming at him like she'd never beamed before.

"Evans…"

"It's so lovely to see you, Sirius!" she laughed, clasping his shaking hands with her own.

"Bloody fucking hell," he mumbled, "am I dead?"

She laughed, tears glazing her eyes. James smirked, and suddenly Sirius was hit with the enormity of it, that he was dead and gone from Harry, but at the same time he was _here_, with his brother and his sister, and they'd never be taken from him again.

"Nice to see you, mate." James nodded, and Sirius did something he'd only ever done once before – he threw his arms around James' skinny shoulders and enveloped him in a hug.

It occurred to him then that someone was missing, someone who he'd though would've turned up just to laugh at him, to throw a carton of cigarettes and his head and cackle a 'no one understands me' cackle that he knew so well. He'd let her down; or maybe he'd let her down, he couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect Harry, Prongs," he choked, "I really am…"

"It's alright, mate, it's alright…"

James exhaled heavily, and Sirius let him go. Lily was still beaming.

He wondered what they would do next. Talk about Harry, he expected, and everything else. He had a lot to apologise for; for making them change Secret Keeper, for not keeping tabs on Peter, for not being a good godfather to Harry…

There would be time to find Marlene. He had all the time in the world, didn't he?

There was a small cough from behind him, a clear and cool cough that he knew oh-so-well. And then came the tap on his shoulder, a familiar feeling that he'd almost half forgotten in Azkaban.

He turned around, and she smiled a funny half smile that he'd never seen before. She was still stunning, with her long blonde hair and her big blue eyes, and her legs that went up to her shoulders.

"Black," she smirked, "Surprised to see you here. I thought you would go to the other place."

He wanted to kiss her, but he was painfully aware of Lily and James stood behind him, grinning like goons.

"So did I," he croaked, "so did I…"

She laughed, and slid her arm into his.

"D'you wanna go for a walk?" she asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.

He wondered whether he looked like she did, or whether he resembled a dirty old man because his face was lined and hers was not. It didn't matter too much, because as far as he could tell they were the only four people there (wherever there was) but he'd rather that they looked like they had before. Before the war, before everything. There was time for him to find out, though. He had so much time now.

"Alright," he agreed, and she looked behind her to the Potters, who were giggling like school children.

"Coming?" she asked.

"Where to?" James asked, and Marlene shrugged.

"I dunno. Where d'you reckon we should go, Sirius?"

Sirius looked around. The grounds seemed to go on forever, stretching into the distance.

"Everywhere."

So that's exactly where they went.


	7. Chapter 7

**author's note: the prompt was AU. Marlene and Sirius are Muggles in this. Cheers for reading!**

* * *

She hated her job. It was boring, and thankless and she hated it. Her fingers ached from typing and her cheeks ached from that faux-smile she plastered on whenever customers came in, and right now all she wanted was several shots of vodka and a good dance.

She'd gone into town with Rosie and Trudy, the only two girls from work whose company she could tolerate for more than ten minutes, and Trudy reckoned there was a really good club just off Silver Street.

"They've got all those new punk records you keep banging on about, Marlene," she explained as they trekked down the High Street, "You'll love it!"

"If no one's got any other suggestions…?" Marlene replied with the air of a gang leader. Rosie remained silent. "Right then. Trudy's Punk Club it is."

"It's called The Tarantula, they do shots for a quid-" Trudy babbled, and Marlene wished she would shut up. She didn't care what it was called, she didn't care how much it cost; all she cared about was that it sold alcohol and that it played good music.

"Who runs it?" Rosie asked, as they cut through the little alley between the High Street and Silver Street. Trudy shrugged.

"Some rich tosser from London, or so I've heard," she said airily, "Fag, Marlene?"

"What? Oh, right, yeah-" Marlene handed her the packet of Marlboro Lights and a lighter, "Where is it then?"

She could hear the thud of a bass guitar and the screeches of youth, and Trudy led them towards it.

* * *

"WHAT ABOUT THE REDHEAD?" James roared over the music, and Sirius pulled a face.

"WHAT ABOUT HER?"

"D'YOU RECKON SHE'D LET ME BUY HER A DRINK?"

Sirius looked over to the redhead whom James was referring to. She was pretty, with an angular face and long, dark red hair. She was dancing, arms raised and eyes closed, and Sirius thought she'd probably be a bit pissed off if James interrupted her. She certainly was stunning though. Or maybe it was just that she was in the middle of the dance floor, under the heat of the lights. Sirius didn't know. But still, he hadn't heard James express any desire to speak to a girl for months (_damn that Celia Mitchell_) and so he shrugged and shouted; "WORTH A SHOT, ISN'T IT?"

James beamed, and stepped down from the podium. Sirius watched as his best mate snaked his way through the crowd, eventually ending up behind the pretty redhead. As James tapped the girl's shoulder, Sirius smirked. His brother was back in the saddle, and that's all that mattered.

"OI! REMUS!" he shouted over to the barman, who was wiping a glass with a sad sort of smile on his face.

"DOUBLE VODKA?"

Remus looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it, and nodded. Sirius whistled to himself, and turned the record over.

* * *

The doorman was a fat little bloke from the Midlands, who didn't look more than nineteen.

"Two pounds for each of you please," he squeaked, and Marlene handed over the cash impatiently.

She could hear the music and smell the stench of a mass of sweating bodies, and she itched to get in there, right into the centre of the crowd, where she could forget that her brothers' wives hated her and that she was stuck in a dead end job, and that she had no idea what she was doing with her life.

"Drinks are a pound each," the fat boy told them, "have fun."

"Cheers," Marlene murmured, and she pushed her way past him and into the club.

It was dark, and hot, and it stank, but the sight of all the people, and the bright lights made her heart soar and the weight on her chest ease.

"I'LL BE ON THE DANCEFLOOR," she shouted to Trudy and Rosie, who were hanging their coats up, like fools, "I'LL HAVE A VODKA AND ICE."

Rosie began to speak, but Marlene ignored her and began to make her way through the crowd, careful and quick.

To their right was the DJ, who Marlene couldn't see clearly due to the lights, but appeared to be a young man, and was right now, sipping on an icy, clear liquid that made her mouth water. Perhaps she should've gone to get the drinks? But _ugh_, she felt so much better right now, with the beat flowing through her veins and her arms in the air. She closed her eyes, and let it, the feeling, whatever it was, wash over her like waves. _I am the star of the sea_, she thought, _and this is where I am meant to be_.

* * *

Sirius was watching James dance with the redhead when he saw her, the tall and beautiful and mysterious blonde girl who danced alone. She seemed to be at one with the music, and that fascinated him. He wondered why she'd never been in here before, and what she drank. Her eyes were closed. He wished she'd look at him. For some reason the way she threw her head back and roared the words of the Ramones song he was playing got under his skin.

"OI!" he shouted over to Remus, who was deep in conversation with the pretty barmaid whose name Sirius did not know, "WATCH THE DECKS, WILL YOU? I NEED A FAG, AND YOU CAN'T SMOKE IN HERE!"

Remus laughed, for reasons Sirius didn't quite understand, and made his way to the podium.

"Cheers," Sirius patted him on the arm, and slipped off into the crowd.

* * *

She was gagging for a cigarette by the time the fourth song came on. Trudy and Rosie were nowhere to be seen, and she was dripping with sweat. She'd lose her place in the crowd, she knew, but she didn't care. There was a couple in front of her that were sickeningly in love – or at least, they were acting like it. The girl wouldn't let go of the boy's hand, not even for a second, and he was looking at her like she was the sun. It made Marlene feel sick.

She shoved her way through the crowd, suddenly full of the bubbling kind of anger that dancing normally soothed. It was easy to get through all the people because she was all elbows and knees, and she burned everyone she touched. They parted like the red sea, and soon she was out the door, fumbling in her purse for a light.

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she spun around.

"_What_?" she snapped.

"Alright, keep your wig on," the boy raised his eyebrows, "I was just wondering if you had a light?"

"Well yes, I do, I just can't-"

From the pocket of his leather jacket, he retrieved a box of matches.

"I'm old school," he offered in way of explanation, and she pulled a face.

"What d'you want, a medal?"

He chuckled. "I'm the DJ." he told her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Like fuck you are."

The boy laughed again, and lit a match. "Having fun?"

"I'm on cloud nine."

He stuck out a hand, and she cackled. "I'm not going to shake your hand, tosser."

"I was after your cigarette, idiot."

She smirked. He was playing at her own game, and no one ever did that.

"So you're really the DJ here, huh?"

"Mmmm."

"You're not Scottish…"

"Nope."

"London?"

"Islington."

"That's _in _London, stupid."

She leant back against the cold stone wall of the club, and he joined her there. They stood smoking in silence, and Marlene felt the boiling sensation cool, so that she was made of the sea again, instead of fire.

"Drink?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Sirius," he stuck out his hand again, and this time she shook it.

"Marlene."

He smirked. James had pulled tonight, and if he was lucky, he might too. She burned, this funny Scottish girl, and he'd always liked watching fire, even as a kid.

"To the bar, then."

She laughed. "To the bar!"


End file.
